


The Road from Edoras

by dandelionpower



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: AU where the characters are not dwarves but men of Rohan, Fili is a Rohirrim, Kili is a blacksmith, M/M, Rohan, Romance, Virgin Kíli, a bit of angst, they are not related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionpower/pseuds/dandelionpower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili searches for a stallion to breed with his mare. Fili happens to own the horse he's been looking for, but the price he's asking is far too high for what Kili can afford.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road from Edoras

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Milliegirl21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliegirl21/gifts).



> Based on a prompt by milliegirl20 on tumblr who asked for: "Fili/Kili unrelated, 2nd date that does not start off well but Fili manages something that makes it all better? maybe a little angst but mostly fluffy with a happy ending?" 
> 
> Special thanks to Katyushha for the betaing and the comments.  
> Also, thanks to Mosslover who gave me some advice, since I'm not used to write that pairing.

 

In the land of Rohan, every story started with a horse. This one, was no exception. More precisely, it started when his uncle Thorin told Kili that it was high time to find a stallion to breed with his mare.

Eora was Kili’s joy and pride. He had trained her himself, with love and patience and she was his closest friend. He loved the idea of eventually having a new foal to train, but in his mind, no stallion would be good enough for Eora, but if there was a chance such male existed, there was no other place to find it then Edoras’ annual horse market.

Kili took the road to King Thengel’s capital on foot that day. The last traces of the winter chill lingered in the air, but the benevolent rays of sun that brushed over the grass held good to the hope of an early spring. Three men rode past Kili and as a sudden draft made a reddish cloud of dust fly around him. Knowing what the road would be like, he had dressed in consequence and put a long leather coat, easy to dust, over his tunic.

The trip to Edoras would have been quicker on horseback, but Kili knew the capital of the Riddermark would be so crowded during the market that it would be difficult to walk the street and lead a horse through the people massed there to buy, exchange and sell. He was only looking for a breeder and he wished to be able to navigate easily through the city and take the road to head home before dusk. His uncle didn’t like when Kili walked the roads alone at night.

Thorin was a taciturn and sometimes surly man, but his affection for Kili was genuine. The blacksmith always kept a close eye on his nephew. “I promised to your mother on her deathbed that nothing bad would happen to you and I intend to keep that promise,” he often repeated. Kili didn’t really remember her. He was still a baby when she died.  He couldn’t remember his father either, for he had passed away before Kili’s birth. Thorin had raised him the best he could and it had been a challenge at times. Kili was of a reckless nature, but he was also eager to please his uncle, and the fear of disappointing Thorin had kept him away from many troubles.

The gate of the city was in sight. Kili passed by the grave mounds dotted with their characteristic simbelmynë flowers. He felt a shiver run down the back of his neck. Perhaps he should have felt some kind of pride and respect for the kings and princes that lay there, but all he could see in his mind was their rotting corpses full of maggots. The living should never have to think about death, not before it actually came knocking at the door.

He crossed the gate and took the great alley that went up to the Golden Hall. As expected, the city was already like a giant hive buzzing with activity. Kili closed his hand around his purse. There were three hundreds copper coins in there: a year worth of work in the forge as his uncle’s apprentice.  In such a crowd, thieves would have no trouble finding easy targets. There was no way he would let a pickpocket get their dirty fingers on what he had earned by the sweat of his brow.

Among the horse traders and the others selling saddles and other leather articles, other kinds of vendors took that opportunity to push their merchandize. Beyond the strong smell of horse sweat and hay, there was also the one of food and alcohol. The long walk had made Kili hungry. He stopped by a fruit stands and bought a red apple and he took a few bites from the fruit as he made his way to the highest part of the city. He decided to take his time and stopped here and there to examine some of the goods. After all, he was in no hurry to fill his own commission. He doubted he would find a stallion worthy of his beautiful lady horse anyway. It would have to be a truly exceptional animal to strike his eye.

Soldiers with spears guarded the flight of stone stairs leading to the King’s hall. At the bottom of the stairs was the area where people usually displayed the stallions they rented for breeding purpose. Kili took a look around: there were horses of all colors: chestnut, sorrel, blood bay, a beautiful dark bay one. Eora’s coat was of a magnificent dappled grey color, and Kili searched for a stallion with a similar, pale coat. None of the horses displayed there seemed to fit the bill so far.

Kili was about to leave when he spotted it. He stopped, in awe.

That stallion was the most beautiful one Kili had ever seen: an impeccable coat, shiny and white as the mountain’s eternal snow, so white in fact that it nearly hurt the eye to even look at it. Real white horses, ones that had pink skin and not black one underneath the hair, were in fact quite rare. The animal looked back at him with its limpid blue eyes, intelligent and calm. Kili slowly approached it, not daring outstretch a hand to pet the offered nose. If he did not know already that they were reserved for Kings, he would have sworn it was one of the Mearas, the descendants of the Valars’ horses.

The owner of this unique specimen was standing nearby, smoking a pipe, leaning against the fence. He was meditating, looking at the landscape and he had not noticed Kili yet.

The horse was sure a great beauty, but Kili soon abandoned it in favour of detailing its owner. The man was shorter than Kili but decidedly strong, with broad shoulders and muscular arms he kept folded across his chest. His blond hair, gathered in a half ponytail, bared a smooth forehead. Because of this sunny and hot weather, the man had left his armor and helmet nearby on a wood pole. He was a soldier, a Rohirrim, “maybe even a Marshall”, Kili thought.

Kili cleared his throat and the blond man looked at him, his lips still closed around the mouthpiece of his pipe. His eyes were of an intense river-blue, just like his horse’s, Kili noted in passing.

“I am in search of a stallion to mount my mare and yours is exactly what I’m looking for,” Kili said as a straightforward introduction.

The beads at the tips of his braided moustache swayed gently from side to side when the man smiled at him. “This is exactly why I brought my steed here today,” he said, patting the horse’s shoulder. Kili decided that he loved that voice: low, friendly and trustworthy. “You’re Master...?”

“Kylian, son of Rholan, but everybody calls me ‘Kili’,” he introduced himself. “I am the sister-son of Thorin, blacksmith of Eachhollow. It’s a village down the road to Aldburg.”

Kili suddenly wondered why he had given that much information to that soldier who probably didn’t care much about who he was.

The blond man, though, seemed interested. He nodded. The name of the village seemed familiar to him. “I’m glad to meet you, Kili,” he replied, reaching to shake his hand. His hand, like the rest of him, was strong and self-assured. “I’m Fili, and I’m afraid this is the only name I have to give.”

“That’s fine by me.”

“So, Kili, you have a mare in season?” There was a gleam in his eyes as he said it, as if saying Kili’s name was something he simply enjoyed saying, like taking a good puff of the best pipe weed. It made Kili feel flustered for a reason he couldn’t actually pinpoint. Later, when he would think back on that encounter as he walked home, he would explain his own reaction by the fact that speaking with a Rohirrim was an intimidating experience in itself.

“Yes… I mean no,” Kili replied, stumbling over his words. “She is not in heat yet, but I reckon she will be soon. In a month or two, I’d say.”

“I see.”

“Will you still be around in two months?” Kili asked, hopeful.

“I never know where the king would need me to go and when, but chances are high I will stay posted in Edoras for the upcoming months.”

Kili had already got his hopes up. “How much do you charge for the breeding?”

“Six gold coins.”

His breath stayed stuck in Kili’s throat for a few seconds. Six gold coins was a fortune. That was six hundred copper pieces, and there was only three hundred in Kili’s purse.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” Kili stammered, feeling the acid ache of disappointment burning in his chest, “that’s too much for me.” Feeling humiliated for being so poor, he started walking away without a look back. He could’ve tried to negotiate, but he found that he didn’t want to enter the bargain game with Fili. Even if he battled hard and got him to lower his price, there was no way he would get it cheap enough to be able to afford it. The battle was lost before it began. And with a horse like this one, Fili had every right to ask that amount of money for this service. The only thing Kili could do was walk away.

“Hey, wait!” Fili called. He caught up on him before Kili could go too far.  “How much do you have?”

Kili sighed. “Three hundred copper coins is all I can spend.”

“Your uncle is a blacksmith, right?”

“Yes,” Kili simply replied.

Fili scratched his chin and pondered. “Maybe something can be arranged. I can give you the breeding for half the price and maybe your uncle can take care of my horse’s hooves for, let’s say, three years?”

It was a lot to ask, but not completely unreasonable either. “I would have to speak to him”

“Of course. Maybe we can meet here again tomorrow and you’ll give me his answer?”

“Yes, fine,” Kili agreed.  He doubted Thorin would agree, but it was worth a try. “I will be there tomorrow,” he assured him.

***

 

Kili chased a cube of turnip with his spoon with no intention to catch and eat it.

Thorin observed him above the edge of his glass as he drank. His nephew was uncharacteristically silent since his return from Edoras earlier. “So? How did it go? Did you find what you were looking for?”

Kili stopped stirring his soup and looked up at his uncle as if he had forgotten Thorin was seating across the table.  “Yes,” he mumbled. His gaze dropped to his bowl again and he said no more.

Short and vague answers weren’t Kili’s style either. Thorin frowned. “Can I get a description at least?”

“He is blond, shorter than me. He is a soldier of the King.”

“Who?”

“Fili.”

“Who’s Fili?”

Kili realized at once he was not making sense, at least not to his uncle. He ran a hand through his hair that was still dusty from his walk on the road. “Fili is the stallion owner I met at the market.”

“Good, but it was of the stallion I was speaking in the first place,” Thorin specified, frowning still. “What does it look like?”

“It’s a true white male: healthy, strong,” Kili replied in a flat voice. “One of the finest beasts I’ve ever seen, a perfect one.”

Clearly, having found the ideal stallion did not fill his nephew with joy, and that was the part that troubled Thorin the most. Normally, he would be babbling about his finding until Thorin would get a headache. “And why isn’t this fine beast already on Eora’s back if that horse is as perfect as you say?” Thorin enquired, as a figure of speech. He refilled the young man’s glass with some more ale.  Hopefully that would made him speak.

Kili sighed.  “Because, the price the owner asks is far too high for what I can afford.”

“Oh.”

Thorin got quiet for a moment. Their cottage was small, the beer they drank was the cheapest on the market and there was meat on the table only once a week. Despite both of them working hard, they would never be rich. It was only recently that Thorin had finally got to buy his own forge and started working for himself instead of being a mere employee. And still, sometimes, Thorin wished he would be able to offer a better life to his only relative left.

A beetle had been attracted by the candle light. Kili’s eyes followed the insect’s peregrinations on the rough, wood planks of the table.

“My instinct tells me there’s more to the story,” Thorin remarked.

Kili gulped. “Well, he offered me a deal,” he admitted reluctantly. “He offered to lower the price if you made his horseshoes for three years.”

“Three years?” Astonished, Thorin laughed without humor. “The man has a nerve,” he added in a groan.

“I know,” Kili whispered. He was not quite resigned, though. There was still a little flicker of hope in him. “I could! I mean, I could do the job, if someone else paid for the metal.”

“Someone like me for example?” Thorin snorted.

Kili’s stared at his uncle, with begging hazel eyes. These eyes were the same as his mother’s and they had never failed to soften Thorin’s heart. “Fine! Tell the owner I agree to the deal, but you’ll be the one doing the work, and you’ll work extra hours to repay for the metal.”

For the first time since the beginning of the evening, a bright smile lit Kili’s face. “Thank you, uncle!” he beamed. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart!”

With a renewed energy and enthusiasm, Kili cleaned the table and later, as he watched his nephew climb the ladder that led him to his attic bedroom, Thorin wondered if it was the stallion or its owner his boy was the most interested in. Kili looked changed. Perhaps he was not a boy anymore. Without warning, Kili had become a man and Thorin suddenly felt old.

***

 

Kili looked forward to the meeting with Fili with a mix of excitement and apprehension. That sweet anxiousness grew even stronger when, as he rode down Harrowdale valley, he caught the first glimpse of the golden thatch of Meduseld.

He dismounted at the gate of the city and walked the main street to the inn where he was supposed to meet the soldier. Fili was already there, waiting for him by the door outside and he waved at the young man.  “Kili! I’m glad to see you again.”

During his ride, Kili had rehearsed that meeting in his head. He had already decided what he would tell Fili, but he found himself unexpectedly tongue-tied. Something in the way Fili looked at him, open and free, made him forget all polite etiquette. Fili, though, did not seem to mind and responded by a brilliant grin to Kili’s small, hesitant smile.

“And this is your mare,” Fili said, taking his attention to the horse Kili led by the reins.  “What’s her name?”

“Eora.”

“Eora…” Fili repeated. He reached for the horse’s nose, but stopped half-way. “Can I?” he said, asking Kili for permission to touch the animal.

That sign of respect moved Kili who nodded and brushed away his dark bangs to hide his trouble.

“She’s a beauty,” Fili commented, petting the horse, but his blue gaze aimed at Kili instead.  

Kili blushed as if he was the one receiving the compliment.  “Thank you.”  

“Did you speak to your uncle?”

“Yes. He accepted the deal. “He will provide the iron and I will shoe the horse myself.”

Fili smiled.  “I believe we have a deal then.”

“Yes, I think we do!”

“Would you like to seal the deal with a drink perhaps?” Fili offered, making a gesture toward the inn’s door.  “It’s on me.”

Kili shifted from one foot to the other, hesitating. He looked at the sky. The course of the sun toward the horizon was well-set already. He wanted to accept. Truly, he did. He was dying to spend more time in the warm light of Fili’s gaze. “No I’m already late,” he finally refused. “I’m sorry. I would have loved to,” he admitted, “but my uncle made me promise to be back before nightfall.” If he angered Thorin, the deal would be off and he would lose a great opportunity to see Fili again, along with the hope of getting a foal from his mare.  

Fili looked at his boots. “I see. Family first, eh? I understand.” He was disappointed and somehow, this pleased Kili. “Then, I’ll be waiting for news. Send a word for me when your mare is in heat and I’ll come to you.”

“Sure,” Kili replied. Fili placed his large, strong hand to Kili’s elbow and squeezed as he wished him a good day. Kili could still feel the touch on his arm as he climbed on his saddle.

The pleasant sensation lingered until Kili got home and even accompanied him to bed that night. He had a hard time falling asleep, so he quietly left his bed and tiptoed outside not to wake Thorin. He stole his uncle’s pipe and sat on the doorstep, watching the smoke twirl and trace enigmatic arabesques before it dissipated in the cool air. His thoughts kept coming back to Fili. The blond Rohirrim seemed to have become his mind’s favorite subject for soft musings. He couldn’t help but wonder what about Fili obsessed him so much. He would not find an answer that night, or the night after. For the month and a half that followed, Kili would still often think about Fili, as he kept a close eye on his mare, to detect any sign that she would be in heat. Also, Kili never burnt himself before when he was working at the forge, but during that month of waiting, he managed to collect four burning scars on his hands and forearms.

The situation worried Thorin a little, but when he questioned his nephew, the young man stayed mute. He wondered if Kili was sick, but if that  was an illness, it was one of an invisible kind. And overall, except those short-lived moments of distraction, Kili was still his happy, carefree self: whistling along with the rhythm of his hammer on hot iron as he worked. Thorin then reminded himself not to be so overprotective.

***

 

Finally, came the time when Kili was sure Eora was in heat. He wrote a message for Fili and sent it through a merchant who rode to Edoras every four days. In the letter, he gave Fili the direction to his house and set the meeting for three days later, before the night of the full moon.

The third day arrived and Kili had been away with the fairies since the morning.  As soon as he came back from the forge, Kili hastened to wash up and erase any trace of coal or iron filling from his olive skin. Then, he put his best clothes on: the tunic with embroidering on the sleeves and he brushed his hair back and adorned it with a silver clip that kept the long bangs out of the way. It was almost as if it was him and not Eora who expected gallant company. Their old cottage was a sorry sight, but at least, Kili wouldn’t be one.

He had a hard time keeping himself from fidgeting as he waited for Fili outside, in the honeyed light of the sunset, under the old apple tree that never managed anything else than producing small, acid fruits full of worms. The spring had now truly made its nest in Harrowdale valley. The air was warm and fragrant.

Thorin was gone for the evening, leaving his nephew to take care of the horse business. He was gone to the tavern with his friend Dwalin, and Kili knew he would probably borrow the man’s spare bed and would not be back until the morrow.

Kili’s heart sped up when he heard the sound of horseshoes on the hard clay of the road. When the ride turned the corner and came into sight, Kili knew it was him. The stallion’s coat was shining like the moon’s reflection on a lake; an unearthly apparition.

“Kili,” the Rohirrim said as a greeting, and once again, the brunet couldn’t help noticing the tone in which it had been said: as if Fili appreciated the sonority as the name brushed his tongue. He jumped down his horse and, with a wide smile, removed his leather fingerless gloves to shake Kili’s hand. For nearly two months, Kili had tried to remember how Fili smiled, how he moved and spoke, but facing the real Fili again, his daydreams fell utterly short.

Kili led Fili and his horse around the cottage and to Eora’s paddock. Curious, the mare trotted to the fence. Fili’s stallion let out long, drawn-out whinnies and the female replied with receptive greetings.  

“Seems like they can’t wait,” Fili insinuated with a wink. He unsaddled the impatient steed and, as Kili opened the gate of the paddock, pushed the stallion in.

Kili had seen horses mating before. It was not a big deal, but somehow, the idea of watching such thing with Fili made him flustered.

“I have a bottle of ale inside. Maybe I can grab it and we drink it on the doorstep while they get… acquainted,” Kili suggested.

Fili laughed at the understatement and clapped a firm hand behind Kili’s shoulder as the younger man led him to the cottage. The gesture of friendship made his legs feel like warm jelly.  

“This is where you live,” Fili said, thoughtful, when they walked through the door.

“Yes, with my uncle. It’s small but we are comfortable enough.”

Fili nodded. He looked sad all of a sudden and Kili couldn’t figure out why.

Kili proceeded to show Fili around, though there was not much to show: the table and the two chairs, the hearth, Thorin’s bed in a corner, the ladder leading to his little attic room and the shelves where Kili found the last bottle of ale.  

Instead of sitting on the doorstep, they ended up walking down the road, outside the village. Kili wanted to show his new friend a place where he liked to go when he wanted to be alone.  They took a path following a singing creek. They left their boots on the rocks next to the water and walked, barefoot to the center of a wide meadow. They sat in the tall grass and shared Fili’s pipe as they watched the plovers fly beneath the purple sky. The spring moon rose and, with it, the rhythmical chirping of crickets.

To his relief, he saw that Fili was cheerful again. They drank and spoke and laughed. Fili listened as Kili described his work at the forge and told him about the works of art he produced from spare pieces of bronze, iron and tin.

When Kili noticed that he was able to count the laughter lines at the corner of Fili’s eyes, he realized that they had unconsciously inched toward each other as they chatted.

Fili spoke of his work at the service of the king, but Kili’s mind had a hard time focusing on what was being said. Instead, he was captivated by his companion’s hands and the way his fingers played with the neck of the empty bottle of ale, how the wind played with his blond hair and made a few strands catch in his braided mustache, how the beard on his chin looked both soft and nicely rough.

« May I be indiscreet and ask you a personal question? » Fili asked, making Kili snap out of his reverie.

« Ask away.»

« Did you ever have a lover, Kili? »

Heat crept to the tips of Kili’s ears and he wished the night was dark enough Fili would not notice. “A lover?” The question had startled him. Repeating those words were the only reply that came to his mind, as if he did not know what they meant. Now Fili must think he was an ignorant brat.

“Yes, a lover,” Fili repeated, soft and without judgement.  “Someone who’s always on your mind at day and shares one or many nights with you. Someone you desire and by whom you’re desired in return.”

“ _I_ _’ve had_ _someone on my mind for a while now_ ,” Kili thought, but he kept this revelation for himself. “I never shared my nights with anybody,” he confided, looking in the distance.  

“Oh,” Fili breathed.  

“Does it surprise you? Should I be ashamed of that?”

“No!” Fili exclaimed. “You should not be ashamed of it, but yes, it does surprise me a little.”

Kili shrugged, and to justify himself, he said: “I guess I just never had the opportunity to get really close to anyone and besides, nobody ever felt that way toward me.”

“That’s what surprises me, actually….”

“Does it?”

“Yes. I mean, I’m looking at you right now and I fail to see how someone could keep themselves from being attracted to you,” Fili admitted casually. He lay down in the grass and put his hands behind his head, contemplating the starry sky.  

“I bet you had tons and tons of lovers,” Kili said, letting himself fall down onto his back at Fili’s side. He should have bitten his tongue and kept quiet, but the words had flown out by themselves. “Being a soldier of the king and all…” he added not to lose face.  It was meant as a curious inquiry as well as a compliment, and now he realized Fili could take it as an insult if he interpreted it the wrong way and thought Kili was calling him a whore.

Fili propped himself up on his elbow. They were even closer now. Kili gulped.

If Fili was outraged, though, he hid it pretty well. “I did have lovers before,” he admitted. His nails scrapped against the light stubble on Kili’s cheek when he touched him there. Kili held his breath and shuddered. “But none of them are here tonight to keep me from doing this,” Fili said. He leant down and placed his lips on Kili’s. The brunet forgot to shut his eyes. He kept on watching Fili’s relaxed face as the soldier moved his lips softly to kiss his mouth. An unbearable heat and the distinctive scent of lust pervaded Kili’s senses as his eyes shut of their own accord.

They parted slightly and Fili opened his eyes. They looked at each other in wonder. “You are a beautiful young man, Kili. Did anyone tell you that before?”

“No,” Kili breathed.

“Well, I’m telling you now. Do you want to be kissed again?”

“Yes.”

His vocabulary was apparently reduced to yes and no, but Kili knew what he wanted, and his mightier need was Fili’s touch.  That wish was granted soon enough as Fili lowered his head again to push those tasty lips to his offered mouth.  Kili’s fingers found an anchoring point on the nape of Fili’s neck and they entwined with confidence through the blond locks. On that moment, there was no doubt in Kili’s mind that at some point, he would be divested from his clothes and would make one with Fili. Until now, he had been unsure of what he wanted from Fili exactly, but now it was crystal clear. He wanted him as a lover and to taste the bliss of all blisses against the soldier’s skin.

Fili’s strong hand, large and smooth slipped under his tunic and went up to find the bare skin of his stomach. It rested there, motionless for a little while, as their kiss deepened until Kili could scarcely breathe between moans. It was too much and barely enough at the same time. His heart was beating hard: stamping like an impatient steed and the dew in the grass penetrated through his tunic and mixed with the fresh sweat on his back. Fili’s fingers brushed a sensitive patch of skin on the side of Kili’s navel and the young man squirmed with a soft gasp.

Fili pulled away and grinned. “Ticklish, I see.”

“A little,” Kili admitted.  

The blond man did not make fun of him. There was lust in his eyes when he scrapped the spot again, gently, with blunt nails. Kili gasped again and his muscles tensed from the sensation.

“I like it,” Fili said in a husky undertone. “I like making your body react.”  

Fili pushed the tunic up to reveal Kili’s firm stomach and he replaced his fingers with his mouth. Just feeling Fili’s breath ghosting over his skin had Kili writhing on the ground and biting his lips in a desperate attempt to control his reflexes. His supressed giggles turned into heavy panting of need when Fili trailed kisses down his belly. He pulled Kili’s trousers down a few inches, just enough to be able to mouth his lower stomach and pubis. However, Fili stopped there. Wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, he looked at him. “What do you want now, Kili?”

Kili did not answer just yet. He sat up, pulled his tunic over his head and tossed the piece of clothing away. He grasped his lover by the hips and brought him closer. Fili was kneeling between his parted legs and it made him look taller, but Kili was still able to reach his lips; kiss and tongue his plump mouth. A draft of wind made blond and brown hair fly about their faces and tangle in the moving air as they tasted each other. Hands still firmly holding his partner’s hips, Kili made him dip back and lay him down in the grass.

Fili welcomed the change of position with the same easy grin, but when Kili pinned him to the ground with his body weight and pressed his hardened sex to his, Fili’s smile turned into a moan.

“Let me look at you,” Kili said, his voice rough as he answered the previous question. He sat back on his heels and made Fili’s tunic slide up, revealing a well-formed chest.  He marvelled at how mature and strong Fili looked.

“How old are you?” he blurted out.

“I’m twenty-four. You?”

“I’m nineteen,” he whispered, a tad distracted. Kili could not quite get over the fact that this was happening, and that he had a Rohirrim, one of the king’s men, all for himself, to feast his eyes on, to touch and taste.

Fili’s expression was unreadable.

« Am I too young? » Kili asked, suddenly conscious that the age difference could be a problem.

« Do you have all your teeth yet? »  

Kili’s frown softened and his mouth stretched into a smile. “You’re making fun of me.”

Fili smirked. “I wouldn’t dare. They say it’s bad luck to mock a blacksmith.”

Fili let one of his hands travel down his own chest. Kili followed its course eagerly. He thought Fili was going to palm himself through his trousers. The bulge of his cock looked as uncomfortable for Fili as it was tantalizing to him.  But Fili’s hand stopped at his navel and didn’t go further.  “Come here,” he whispered, inviting Kili closer again with an outstretched hand.

“Let me take that off first,” Kili offered, putting his slightly trembling fingers on the soldier’s carved-leather belt.

“Yes please.”

Kili still had his trousers on. They hanged low on his hips but he did not make a move to take them off yet. His concentration was all on the enticing view offered to him. Fili’s hard length rested on his belly: thick, smooth, beautifully pulsating against Kili’s palm when he took it in his hand. He wanted to kiss that silky shaft even more than he wanted to kiss Fili’s lips. He did not leave it only as a fantasy, though. It felt even silkier on his tongue and Fili groaned at the sensation of being licked with such a lack of restrain.

The spicy scent between Fili’s legs made Kili’s head spin. He trailed kisses up his stomach and crawled above the Rohirrim to nip his shoulders and neck.  “I heard that being fucked by a blacksmith is good luck,” Kili whispered into his ear.

Fili’s hand went up and down his back in slow, calculated caresses. “You are of the confident kind of virgins, are you?”

“I feel bold tonight,” Kili admitted. He took one of Fili’s legs and bent his knee to get a better angle when he grinded his clothed erection to the blond man’s sex. He reveled in the strangled, surprised moan it tore from Fili’s throat. “You make me audacious,” he emphasized as he gave his partner more pushes of his hips.  

“Kili…”Fili panted. “Would you strip for me, for I resent our difference in amount of clothing.”

With a smile, Kili kneeled again to open his belt and pull down his trousers under Fili’s impatient and blazing stare. When Kili was naked, Fili laced his fingers with both his hands and pulled him on top again. The soldiers’ legs were already around his waist and all Kili wanted was to bury himself into that body.

In the moonlight, Fili’s pupils seemed impossibly wide. After a hungry, profound kiss, Fili uttered a raspy whisper: “Now, have me whole, handsome blacksmith-boy. Can’t have too much luck, huh?”

***

 

The midnight dew fell on the meadow and made Fili’s hair curl on his naked shoulders. It also added a layer of moisture to the sweat on Kili’s back. The nocturnal breeze made him shudder.

Fili held him tighter. “Are you cold?” he asked.  

Kili was conflicted. On one hand, he was indeed starting to get cold now that they simply lay still against each other. On the other hand, being in Fili’s arms redefined his perception of what perfect contentment was, and he wanted to stay there longer, until the morning if possible. Being built as he was: thin, with dense muscles, a compact frame and very little fat, he was not fit to endure cold for long. And if he got sick, it meant a loss of income for a few days and Thorin would not be happy. But Fili was so tempting, with his strong, large chest where grew a prairie of golden hair. Kili felt good and safe in his arms.

He did not answer Fili’s question, trying to buy time, but at some point, he sneezed.

“Let’s get dressed before you catch your death,” Fili decided, tugging gently on Kili’s hairclip.

Getting dressed was another step toward Fili’s departure and Kili did not want to see him leave.

When they stepped in the old cottage again, Kili dragged him into a long, searing kiss. One of his hands held on to the nape of the Rohirrim’s neck and the other seized the braids in his hair to keep him close.  His eagerness was met by Fili who pushed his lips to Kili’s and his hands imprisoned the younger man’s hips in their craving vice. Fili pushed him back until he got him sitting on the table and they held each other’s faces as they kissed again, and again.

His night with the soldier had opened a whole new world of possibilities for Kili. As a blacksmith, he knew how difficult it could be to bend materials to the desired shape. He was amazed to see how powerful his hands truly were, to be able to make his new lover arch his back and lose control from the slightest touch. He wanted to explore more of his new-found aptitudes; more of Fili. This short night had not been enough to understand anything to the storm going on in his heart and body.

“I can light a fire and I have a bed upstairs,” Kili murmured against Fili’s lips. “It’s small but we can both fit in it if we sleep close enough.”

Fili pulled back and his hands left Kili’s hips. The way he sighed and the look in his eyes made Kili wonder if he had said something wrong. “I have to get going. I’m on guarding duty at Meduseld in the morning.”

Kili’s shoulders hunched. “I understand.” As soon as Fili gave him enough space to do so, he jumped down the table and back on his feet.

“I’m going to get my horse out of your paddock, if you don’t mind,” Fili said, pointing a thumb at the cottage’s back door.

“Of course,” Kili replied. He swallowed around a lump that suddenly formed in his throat. “Just give me a second.”

Kili climbed the ladder leading to his attic and pulled a little wooden chest from under his bed. He had a small leather bag, clutched in his fist when he came down and he put it in Fili’s hand unceremoniously. “Here’s your money: three hundred copper coins.”

Fili looked puzzled at first, then uncomfortable. He seemed to hesitate, then he put the bag inside his coat and gave Kili an uptight smile.

Kili couldn’t tell exactly why, but there was an odd silence between them as they walked out of the cottage and to the paddock.

Fili’s stallion was displeased to have to leave the mare, just as Kili was reluctant to let Fili go. “You sure you want to leave at night? What if you meet thieves or orc scouts on the way?”

Fili smiled, for real this time. “Don’t worry. I have my sword. I’ll be fine.”

They did not kiss again, but the soldier hugged him tight before he got on his saddle. The brief contact was enough for Kili’s heart to speed again, and he still felt a little giddy as he watched Fili disappear in the night, down the road to Edoras.

When he went to bed, Kili realized that his clothes had kept Fili’s scent, just like his tongue now knew the salt of his skin. He took his tunic and breeches off but the spicy, musky smell of his lover was still there, imprinted on his skin like an indelible mark.

***

 

When he saddled Eora to go to work on the next day, Kili observed that she didn’t show any signs of heat anymore. It surely meant that the breeding had worked. It would be hard to tell if she was pregnant for several more months, but his intuition told him he had not spent all his economies in vain. And still, it saddened him a little, because now, he had no excuse to make Fili come to the cottage again. All his hope was that the soldier would come soon to the forge to make his horseshoes fixed. His heart revelled in the hope to see Fili again. After what they had shared, that night in the meadow, Kili was sure Fili would come calling again, socially at least.

But he was mistaken.

One week passed, then two, then three. The elation of the first weeks led way to doubt and disappointment. Spring threaded through months, one after another, like the dull beads of a necklace nobody wanted to wear; especially not Kili who was getting more melancholic and morose with every new day.

He drowned himself in work, only leaving the forge late at night and going back to its unbearable heat as soon as the sun rose again.

Thorin was concerned, but every time he asked questions, his nephew answered with grumpy mumbles. He gave up at some point, and pestered himself for it. Kili was an adult now, and Thorin was not sure how to speak to him anymore. Clearly, what was eating his nephew could not be sorted with a treat and a kiss to the scraped knee.

Summer turned out to be scorching that year. The creek in the meadow went dry and the earth cracked, exposing its wounds to the sky, hoping the clouds would have pity and come back gorged with rain.  Kili did not see the dried creek and the earth’s distress. He had never gone to the meadow after _that_ night and he had his own distress to deal with.

First, he thought that there would be a perfect explanation for the fact Fili had left and never come back. Maybe the king had sent him away on some mission or campaign. But a customer at the forge told him he had seen Fili in one of Edoras’ taverns a few times.

There was only one option left. If Fili had not contacted him, it meant that he didn’t want to see him again. Kili had probably been just one distraction out of many. Just a toy Fili fancied to play with, nothing more. But then, Kili remembered how the blond man had held him, kissed him, spoken to him… how he had looked at him and his bared body, as if they were made of sunlight, In those moments, Kili refused to believe his own dark thoughts. But the facts were there: Fili could visit him, and he didn’t. After all, neither of them had made promises.

Autumn came and graced the fields and plains with rain. It failed to cleanse Kili’s heart, though. It was still stained with rejection. He kept thinking of Fili often, and the fondness of the memory was sometimes, for short instants, even stronger than the pain.

Fall was a busy time at the forge. Usually, it was the time where people asked for new horseshoes, for the ground on the roads was about to freeze and become as hard as stone. Kili still owed the Rohirrim to take care of his stallion on that matter. He both hoped and dreaded to see Fili show up at the forge.  His hopes were deceived and his dread soothed, because Fili did not come.

One of the leather straps on Eora’s bridle broke at the beginning of winter. Two weeks was what it took for Kili to save enough money to replace it. When he had the right sum, he rode to Snowbourne market. There, he met Bofur, one of Edoras’ blacksmiths. The man was a friend of Thorin and recognized Kili at once.  Bofur was the blacksmith who worked directly for the king and supplied Meduseld in’weapons for the guards. Kili asked him if he knew a young soldier who went by the name of “Fili”. Bofur gave a positive answer. He had seen the lad not so long ago, when Fili had come to his forge to get the hooves of his magnificent stallion done.  Kili’s heart didn’t even try to resist, to swim and stay at the surface: it sank down in his chest like a stone. The stone at the pit of his stomach became red and hot like it had been left in the forge’s fire for hours. Kili told himself that he had no right to feel as angry as he did. On the contrary, he should have felt relieved that he would not have to work to pay the metal on the horseshoes he owed Fili. The Rohirrim was doing him a favor, in a way. And still, it burnt Kili to the core, as if the soldier going to another blacksmith was a vile betrayal.

As he rode back home, the hot stone made his inside boil and the vapors of his anguish went through his throat and to his eyes that misted with unshed tears.   

Kili spent three days thinking, and the fourth day, he had made the decision of going to Edoras and find Fili. If to Fili, the night they had spent together hadn’t had any signification, any meaning, he had to hear it from his mouth.

***

 

_“The house next to the South wall’s gate, the one with the red porch.”_

Kili repeated in his mind the indications Bofur had given him. Finally, he spotted Fili’s house.

It was small: way smaller than he had imagined it. In fact, it did not look much bigger than his own cottage, except that this one had a proper second floor instead of only an attic. The roof needed repairs and the door a new paint job. He had thought Rohirrims were wealthy enough to afford something more luxurious.

He gulped to chase his nervousness as he walked to the door and knocked. His heart hammered in his ribcage when he heard steps and the handle moved.  

The person who answered was blond and had clear blue eyes, but it was not Fili. The middle-aged woman wore a simple apron-dress. Her ears and neck were free from any jewellery, but she was still beautiful and elegant and the way she smiled at him made Kili ache, because this smile was painfully familiar.

“Good day to you, sir,” she said. “Can I be of service?”

“I’m looking for Fili. I think he lives here.”

“Yes, he does. I’m Dis Dùnland, his mother,” she introduced herself. “You must be Fili’s friend Kili, if I’m not mistaken.”

He flinched and bit his tongue out of surprise. First of all, before that second, he did not know Fili lived with his mother. He did not know either that his last name was Dùnland. In short, he realized he did not know anything about Fili, besides his touch. What surprised him the most, however, was to hear her say his name. “How… how do you know?” he asked.

“It was not that hard to fathom,” she replied with a hint of playfulness. “Fili described you as ‘very handsome, with dark eyes and long bangs’.”

Kili ran a hand in his hair, suddenly self-conscious about his hair.

“I’m afraid Fili won’t come back before the night,” Dis informed him. “His duty had called him to the Golden hall today.”

Kili nodded and looked at his boots, ashamed to be there somehow.

He had to meet a client at the forge in the afternoon. He would not be able to stay and wait for the soldier’s return.

“Maybe you can come in and have tea,” she offered. “You can write down a note for him if you like. I’ll give it to him as soon as he’s home.”

Kili accepted the offer and followed Dis to the sparsely furnished kitchen. He sat at the table and accepted with a whispered gratitude the biscuits and fuming cup she brought him. Lost in thoughts, Kili stared at the pipe that had been left on the mantelpiece: Fili’s pipe. He kept silent until Dis came back with her own cup of tea and sat with him.

Apparently, her son had told her a lot about Kili, because she politely asked about Thorin, the work at the forge and Kili’s mare. He answered and, in return, he enquired after Fili’s service in the king’s guard. She informed him gladly, saying that Fili had kept himself busy. She had not seen him that often in the last months and he seemed a little spiritless. She also told Kili about her late husband, who had contracted monstrous gambling debts before his death. Fili and she now had to pay them. That was the reason why Fili had engaged himself at the king’s service and she as a seamstress.

When the biscuits were eaten and the cups empty, Kili asked for a piece of paper. With his messy child-like writing, he left a message for Fili. He folded it carefully and entrusted to Dis.

“ _I would be grateful if we could just talk. Please,_ ” the message said. There was nothing to add.

***

Autumn left the Riddermark. Winter settled in, like a moth in the folds of a fur coat, happy to parasitize the landscape with its dry, biting wind.

Kili had not heard of the soldier since the day he went to Edoras and left  him the message. After a bitter fight with his own feelings, Kili had decided that maybe it was better this way. His anger had abated. It was more of a numb ache -- a longing. Fili’s face was always in the corner of his mind, on one of the high shelves, but close enough Kili only had to stretch a little to reach the memory of what had happened in the meadow, a warm night of last spring.

Eora was close to foaling, and she did not like being saddled anymore, so Kili went on foot to the forge. That morning, the yellow grass was brittle and rigid with frost. It cracked and broke like twigs under his feet as he took a short cut and dragged his boots across the plain.

Once inside, Kili stripped from his coat and put on his leather apron. He was alone in the workshop at this hour and drank in the peacefulness of the place. Thorin would only show up a few hours later, after having delivered a repaired plow blade to a farm two miles out of the village.

Kili lightened up a few shovelful of coal and actioned the bellows. For once, the heat inside the building was welcomed. The frost that had caught in his hair and eyebrows melted down and droplets ran down his face and neck. Kili liked that part of the day, when the forge came to life and the bellows woke up and blew like dragons.

He had to forge a set of chisels for a local carpenter. He got to the task as soon as the coals were hot enough. He had just grabbed a pair of tongs when he heard knocks on the door. He put down his tool and wiped his frowning brow with the back of his hand. Clients rarely came this early. He was right, since it was not exactly a client who stood on his doorstep when he opened the door.

“Good morning, Kili.”

The greeting had been said in a grave tone and the sight of Fili standing there, with a contrite look and snowflakes in his hair, caught Kili off guard.  He had expected that visit, then waited for it, despaired for it and when he had finally stopped hoping he would see him again, here he was.

Kili cleaned his hands from the soot on the front of his apron. “What are you doing here?” he asked. He knew his voice was cold and unfriendly, but he couldn’t help it. The anger, and a lot of other confusing feelings he had managed to keep at bay until now were charging back like a mad ram that couldn’t sort friend from foes.

“Your message said you wished to talk to me.”

“I left that message for you more than three months ago,” Kili pointed out bitterly.

Fili’s gaze dropped. “I know. But I’ve been thinking a lot these last three months.”

“Thinking about what? How much you hate me?” he retorted, even if he knew that he had no reason to accuse Fili of anything else than being indifferent to him.

“By Eorl’s name, Kili!” Fili cursed. He stepped in and reached for the young man’s face and touched his cheek in a spontaneous gesture. “How could you think that, even for a second? You’re so lovely.”

To be touched again by those hands, Kili had been aching, burning for it. But it hurt now. He didn’t try to avoid the caress, but he put a hand to the middle of Fili’s chest to prevent him from coming closer.

It was Fili’s turn to look hurt now. He let go of the blacksmith’s face.

“If I’m this lovely, why did you never come back? Why didn’t I hear anything from you for almost a year?” Kili reproached him.

“ Because I felt guilty… and I was a coward,” Fili explained.

It was not enough for Kili. Confronted to the young man’s silence, Fili had no other choice but to explain himself better. “I know what it is to struggle to pay for everything. I know life is hard on families who don’t sit on a pile of gold. After my father died, leaving us with all his debts, my mother did all she could to repay them and raise me. I’m a Rohirrim now and it’s my turn to help her back, but my wages are not enough. We need all the money we can find, so, maybe one day, we can finally be free from my father’s poisoned legacy. That’s why I rent my stallion for breeding. It’s the only asset I have. From the moment I saw you at the horse market, you seduced me, Kili. I wanted to get to know you better, but I still needed the money, that’s why I agreed to make a deal…” his voice trailed off. He had a hard time meeting Kili’s eyes. Obviously, there was a darker part to the tale, and it was still to come, but Kili had been waiting for explanations, and he was ready to hear them. “But then, I saw where you lived, and I realized your family was not different from mine. I should have helped you instead of taking all your economies and asking free horseshoes on top of that. Then, we had this amazing night together.”

He paused and searched Kili’s gaze. “We made love and it made me feel even guiltier. I knew that money would keep the solicitors away from our door for a while and give my mother some relief. I accepted it. I shouldn’t have. It hated myself for having taken it. I went back to Edoras. I didn’t give the money to my mother right away, because I know she reads me so easily, she would see my guilt and I would have had to explain to her how I got it. The night after, I went to the pub, I got drunk and I gambled it all away. When I sobered up and realized what I had done, I knew I would not able to face you again. I know what it is to live with debts and  I had wasted the money you gave me. I had failed to show compassion and help my lover and I had proven I was no better than my father.” His voice was broken and thick with tears. “I don’t think there is anything more to say. I didn’t approach a card table since then.  Whether you choose to forgive me or not, you still need to know how sorry I am.”

Kili, in fact, felt lighter after that confession. He found that the loss of the three hundred copper coins did not matter to him that much. Fili had been irresponsible, true, but everybody made mistakes. He reached out and took Fili’s hand in his. “So… you did feel something, that night. It wasn’t just me?”

Fili squeezed his hand. “No. It was not just you. I thought of you every living day, and because of what I did, it killed me to know I would never be close to you again.”

“What made you come and see me now?” Kili asked.

“I have a present for you,” Fili declared. He took something out of his pocket and placed it in Kili’s hand.

It was round, cold, hard and smooth. When Kili opened his hand, he was holding a pebble. Nothing special about it: just a regular river stone.

“We were on a scouting mission along the Snowbourn River,” Fili told him, “and that’s when I saw it. The river was frozen, but there was that dark pebble on top of the ice. I have no idea how it ended up there but I picked it up. The way it was dark, but it still shone in the sun, it reminded me of you. I knew I had to see you again and that I had to stop hiding.”

Kili swallowed. “I’m glad this pebble found its way through the ice and brought you back to me.” He closed his fingers around his present and brought Fili closer by the waist to kiss him.

Fili kissed back with an audible moan of relief. “I thought you’d soon forget about me,” he confided when they parted.

“Then, you are an idiot.”

Fili smiled. “Probably.” This time, it’s Fili who took the young blacksmith’s lips as he locked his arms around him. “I won’t run away anymore, I promise. I want to sleep in your bed tonight.”

Kili pulled a face. “We still have to negotiate that with my uncle.”

“Negotiate what?” Thorin asked with an eyebrow raised as he walked in on the two embracing men.  

“Uncle!”

“You’ll explain later, Kili. I just came from home. Eora is in labor.”

                                                     

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I look forward to reading your comments. :)


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